


"Man Can Drive A Starship..."

by RogerStenning



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-03
Updated: 2013-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-23 12:15:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/622038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogerStenning/pseuds/RogerStenning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even on holiday, things can go upside down in a hurry...!</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Man Can Drive A Starship..."

**"...The man can drive a starship...."**  
  
A Vorkosigan FanFic  
By  
Roger Stenning  
  
Based on the characters, situations, and universe created, set, and owned by  
Lois McMaster Bujold. The contents of this story are for personal, non-commercial  
use only. Any use of Lois McMaster Bujold's copyrighted material or trademarks  
anywhere in this story should not be viewed as a challenge to those copyrights  
or trademarks. This disclaimer must remain as an integral part of this file.  
The material in this story may be used/abused by other FanFic authors, provided  
that credit is given where credit is due - "Turnabout is fair play"!  
  
Copyright 2010, Roger Stenning.  
  
***  
  
This ficlet was inspired by the ficlet "[Vorkosigan Sousleau](http://philomytha.livejournal.com/33635.html)" by [Philomytha](http://philomytha.livejournal.com/),  
and by [dan_ad_nauseam's](http://dan-ad-nauseam.livejournal.com/) comment/request to it for an ImpSec POV version  
\- happy to oblige, Dan ;-)  
  
***  
  
Many thanks to [Philomytha](http://philomytha.livejournal.com/) for the beta reading, observations,  
and SPAG (that's _SP_ elling _A_ nd _G_ rammar) corrections :-)  
  
***

  
Corporal Yvgeni Ventovitch was looking through his power-glasses at the small sail boat - his Sergeant called it a "Laser 25", whatever that meant - and shot up standing, gasping in shock as it heeled over to one side, the massively tall single sail on it angling over from the vertical to the horizontal in three seconds flat, dumping its' two Very Important Passengers - his Principles - over the side and head-first into the lake.  
  
He was tapping the red button his wristcom as both their heads broke the surface, and zoomed in on first, the Admiral, who was grinning like a maniac, and then the Admiral's new wife, whose face bore a look of resigned indignation - or was that exasperation? The Close Protection team still hadn't figured out her facial expressions yet, but given that she was an off-worlder, that was hardly a surprise: different cultures tended to deal with adversity and unexpected happenings in different ways, he'd noticed in his five years on the job.  
  
"Post five, code red, go." crackled his com.  
  
He was about to call for a float car to go out and rescue them, when he saw them both splash water at each other, look like they were laughing, grab hold of the sides of the sideways floating boat, and say something to each other - he saw their lips moving, but didn't know how to read lips, so assumed it was probably some variation of the "that was your fault" "yes dear/no dear" husband and wife interplay.  
  
Yvgeni swore to himself. He'd been too quick on the button. "Post five. Disregard red, drop to green plus one, confirmation green one orange, over".  
  
"Control. Explain, over." _Nuts_.  
  
"Post five. Both the Bear and the Swan just took an unexpected dip in the lake. They're fine, over".  
  
"Control. Yeah, figures. The man can drive a starship, but he dumps that damn boat every time". The voice at Control sounded a little bored, "You'd think he'd learn. Alright, keep awake out there, looks like it'll be a long day for us, over."  
  
"Break. This is Eagle. Cut the chatter, and get back to work. Out." The distinctive timbre of their boss, Captain Illyan, was unmistakable. _Oops_. Did he *ever* sleep?!  
  
Anyhow, no boom, so no foul. Just a somewhat soggy fumble. He relaxed a little, glancing at the Imperial Supply Corps 'Ready-Ration' self-heating retort-packaged meal - probably cardboard flavour again - in the day-pack at his feet.  
  
Only eight hours to go, and he could shuffle off to bed.  
  
He sat back down on his folding field stool, and resumed his voyeuristic duties. God, this was going to be a long day.

_FIN_

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Over the Bounding Main](https://archiveofourown.org/works/933345) by [a_shepherd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_shepherd/pseuds/a_shepherd)




End file.
